


Unsaid Emily

by RandomestFandoms



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: (or lgbtq+), Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Family Dynamics, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Luke Patterson Needs a Hug (Julie and The Phantoms), M/M, Multi, Protective Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Team as Family, canon character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27448105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomestFandoms/pseuds/RandomestFandoms
Summary: Emily Patterson was only a few months old when her parents died, leaving her to be adopted by her godparents, Emily and Mitch Patterson.  She loved her parents, and they loved her, but she knew that she would always be a shadow of the son they lost; the brother who died decades before she was born.  She loved Luke, even without knowing him.  His old music, his first guitar, he was the reason she had fallen in love with music in the first place.  But it could never replace the hole in her chest, the hollow space carved out by a brother she would never know.  Or so she thought, until her best friend Julie performed with her new holograph band — one of whom was Emily’s own brother.
Relationships: Alex & Flynn & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex & Luke Patterson & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex (Julie and The Phantoms) & Original Female Character(s), Julie Molina & Original Female Character(s), Luke Patterson & Original Female Character(s), Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)/Original Female Character(s), Willie (Julie and The Phantoms) & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 60





	1. Prologue: Fight Through The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own JATP or anything associated with it, I only own the idea for Emily and the changes I've made from canon
> 
> WARNINGS: major character death (sunset curve), grief, mental health issues
> 
> I would also like to clarify right now that while there will be scenes where Emily thinks that her parents see her as a replacement for Luke, or don't love her as much, BUT THIS IS NOT THE CASE!!! All three of them struggle a lot with their grief and it leads to communication issues, but her parents love her just as much as they love Luke and they see her as her own person, even if sometimes her similarities to Luke are painful! And Emily will learn over the course of the story that she is loved and valued just as much as he is

March was a difficult month for Emily. It always had been. Things would get easier after April 1st, she knew that, but until then she knew that she would just have to force herself through every day. And March 19th was no different.

In fact, March 19th was the worst day of all.

Yes, it was her birthday. Her fifteenth birthday, at that. If she were anyone else, it would have been an excuse to stay up until midnight, secretly listening to the Taylor Swift music that no one knew she loved. If she were anyone else she would have been excited to wake up, excited to finish school, excited to celebrate with her family. If she were anyone else, her birthday wouldn’t also mean that it had been a quarter of a century since her big brother died.

Emily had never met her brother; he had died ten years before she was born. And they didn’t share any DNA either, what with her being adopted when she was only a few months old. But that had never stopped her from feeling his absence like a gaping hole in her chest. She could have — she should have had a big brother, and every day she mourned the boy she never got to know.

That wasn’t really a fair assessment though. In some ways, she knew him better than anyone else. She was his replacement, after all. And no, of course her parents would never call her that, but well… she wasn’t an idiot. Luke was their son, Emily was their best friends’ daughter, their goddaughter, and no matter how much they loved her, it wasn’t the same. 

And besides that, Emily had always felt connected to him. Maybe it was because she had grown up in his bedroom — the one she had insisted on keeping almost identical to how he had left it. Maybe it was because she fell in love with music thanks to his first guitar, or because half of her wardrobe was made of clothes she’d made out of his old clothes. Maybe it was because she had his old songbook, all the songs that he’d worked on and abandoned over the years, a look into his mind that no one else could ever have.

And maybe it was unhealthy to be this dependent on a ghost, on a boy she’d never know who wasn’t even really her brother. That’s what every therapist she’d ever had would say. 

_ Unhealthy coping mechanisms. Mirroring. Adaptive personality. Trauma response. Unstable self image. Potential borderline personality. Cognitive behavioural therapy. Dialectical behaviour therapy. _

Yeah, they’d had a lot to say. 

But regardless of what it was or why she did it, Emily had formed a strong attachment to Luke Patterson’s memory. And even if her parents’ grief weren’t so palpable, so suffocating, Emily would still hate her birthday. Her own grief left her hollow, but never more so than on her birthday. His deathday.

She had woken up in a haze that day, feeling his absence like a weight in her stomach. But her grief wasn’t the priority, and neither was her birthday. It was a hard day for her parents, and Emily would always do whatever she could to make sure they didn’t need to worry about her too. So she painted on her reliable mask, all shimmering highlighter and sharp contour, subtle mascara and glossy lips. She tucked her eyeliner, mascara, and concealer into the pocket of her backpack, knowing she would need them in a few hours, and made her way to her wardrobe.

It was a difficult balance sometimes; seeking the comfort she desperately needed without breaking the illusion that she was completely and totally, really 100%, absolutely okay.

But Emily Patterson was nothing if not an expert at walking that particular tightrope.

Start with the easy part — the navy jeggings that had long since molded themselves perfectly to her, and her favourite black booties, with the chunky heel that always made her feel like she could conquer the world. Then spend five minutes staring aimlessly before finally grabbing the shirt she always wore on her birthday.

It was one of Luke’s, his favourite, from what she’d been told. From the first ever batch of Sunset Curve shirts, plain white with the logo in black. Luke had cut the sides off of his, so Emily always paired it with a basic black bandeau and a leather jacket to avoid any dress code violations. It had probably fit Luke perfectly, but it hung loose around Emily’s neck and cut off mid-thigh, and it was her favourite. She only wore it twice a year, but something about putting it on always felt like home.

She took the stairs too at a time, hugging both of her parents before grabbing an oatmeal muffin and her water bottle and ducking out of the house. No one mentioned her birthday, and no one mentioned Luke, just like every year. She knew that she should go straight to school, that she should be there to support Flynn after Julie’s attempt at rejoining the program had been denied. That’s where her parents thought she was going, just like every year. But it was March 19th, so instead of turning right at the end of her street, she turned left.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down.

_ Uncle Trevor: You’re clear at school, happy birthday kiddo _

She sent him a quick thanks, complete with half a dozen blue hearts.

★

Silence was her only companion as she lost herself in the fog in her head. She knew the route by heart, having walked it every day for the past five years, and she didn’t need to focus to make it to the graveyard, following the familiar path until she reached her destination.

_ Luke Patterson _

_ Beloved son and friend _

_ 1978-1995 _

_ Keep dreaming like you’ll live forever _

“Hi, Luke,” she said quietly, sitting down next to the headstone. “Happy birthday to me, I guess.”

There wasn’t much to say, really. She visited his gravestone every day after school just to talk about her day, telling him things she would never tell anyone else. She wasn’t crazy, despite what dozens of therapists may have thought, she knew that Luke couldn’t  _ hear _ her. But she needed to get things off her chest, and, well, it worked. She filled him in on Julie’s situation at school, but spent most of the morning just leaning against the gravestone as she ate her muffin, until the buzz of her phone broke through her fog. She grabbed her bag, saying a quick goodbye before heading back to the entrance of the cemetery, where a familiar car was waiting for her.

“Happy birthday, Emily,” Trevor Wilson said, as soon as she had opened the passenger door to his Bugatti Veyron.

Emily gave him a soft smile, carefully blinking back tears. She wanted to thank him, but she didn’t trust her voice not to crack.

Just like every year, Trevor was the one to get her excused from her morning classes, to drive her to school from the graveyard, and the only person to actually wish her a happy birthday. Mama Rose used to wish her a happy birthday too, complete with a birthday cupcake from Ray, but after last year… well, that wouldn’t be happening anymore.

Emily buckled herself into the car, and Trevor set off towards the school. He didn’t try to get her to talk, he never did, but there were very few places that felt as comfortable to her as his car.

Trevor Wilson was her best friend’s — well, her former best friend’s — dad, but he’d always been a second dad to Emily too. He had been there for as long as she could remember, along with Rose and Ray Molina and their daughters, and both of Flynn’s moms. But Trevor and Rose had always seemed to be just a bit more involved, just a bit more understanding. 

But Uncle Trevor was… he was different, even from Mama Rose. He had taught her to ride a bike and play guitar, he would buy her ice cream on the bad days, he designed a room for her in his mansion for the nights when the grief filled her house until she couldn’t breathe. He had promised to teach her to drive, he was at all of her performances, even after she and Carrie had fought.

And she knew that it wasn’t because her parents didn’t love and support her, they did. But when they saw her on a bike, all they could see was Luke biking away for the last time; when they saw her perform all they could see was the first guitar they’d bought him; and grief wasn’t something you could just choose not to feel. They loved her and they supported her as much as they possibly could, but Trevor was there for the days where they couldn’t.

Like March 19th.

★

They reached the school in about fifteen minutes, just enough time for Emily to finish the McDonald’s takeout that Trevor brought every year. That night she would have a quiet dinner with her parents and eat cake in her room, but for lunch she would eat her chicken nugget meal and McFlurry in the passenger seat of a sports car with one of the biggest celebrities of the decade. It was just how it went.

Once Trevor had pulled to a stop, Emily flipped down the visor, using the mirror to carefully fix her tear-smudged makeup. Within moments, she had forced a bright smile onto her face. Climbing out of the car, she shouldered her backpack and grabbed the garbage to toss out.

“Thanks, Uncle Bobby,” she said softly, shutting the door behind her and heading into the school.

★

The spirit assembly should still be going on, she knew, so she made her way straight to the gym. It wasn’t unusual to hear her classmates performing in assemblies, that was the whole point of the music program, but it  _ was _ unusual to hear Julie Molina singing.

Not because her best friend had been kicked out of the program, but because she hadn’t heard Julie sing in a year. Hearing it felt like coming home.

But even more unusual than Julie’s voice were the oddly familiar male voices singing with her, and most unusual of all was the sudden screaming and cheering from her classmates as they rushed to the stage — not even Dirty Candy got that kind of a reaction.

_ And rise through the night  _

_ You and I _

_ We will fight to shine together _

_ Bright forever _

Slowly, Emily made her way into the gym, struggling to get close enough to see what the hype was about. But once she did, she knew why the voices sounded so familiar. Because there, on the stage, with Julie Molina, in 2020, twenty-five years after they died, was Sunset Curve.

_ In times that I doubted myself _

_ I felt like I needed some help _

_ Stuck in my head _

_ With nothing left _

And there, in a familiarly open-sided tank top and beanie, stepping downstage towards the microphone, was Luke Patterson.

_ I feel something around me now _

_ So unclear lifting me up _

_ I found the ground I’m marching on _


	2. If Somebody Hurts You (I'm Gonna Get Hurt Too)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t — she couldn’t breathe. It was Luke. It was Luke, on stage, with Julie Molina. It was Luke. Onstage. With Julie Molina. Luke, who was dead. Onstage. With Julie. Onstage. Luke. She couldn’t breathe.
> 
> Luke, her brother, who was dead. Onstage, with Julie Molina, who had stopped singing. Emily has a lot of questions, and needs some answers, but first she has to remember how to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own JATP or anything associated with it, I only own the idea for Emily and the changes I've made from canon
> 
> WARNINGS: ongoing panic attacks throughout the chapter

Emily couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t — she couldn’t breathe. It was Luke. It was Luke, on stage, with Julie Molina. It was Luke. Onstage. With Julie Molina. Luke, who was dead. Onstage. With Julie. Onstage.  _ Luke _ . She couldn’t breathe.

She knew that the rational thing to do would be to stay, to support Julie and to hear her explain how her dead brother and his equally dead band were onstage, but she couldn’t. The gym was too hot, too crowded, and she couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. It was too much, so she ran. 

She turned quickly on her heel, racing out of the gym and down the hallway, until she was far enough away that she couldn’t hear them — hear  _ him _ — anymore. She ran until she reached the interior quad, collapsing into the nearest chair. She dropped her backpack on the table with a resounding  _ THUNK _ , tucking her head between her knees as she gasped for air.

She could be wrong, she tried to tell herself. Maybe it wasn’t Luke. Maybe she was just going crazy. Maybe it was stress, or the fact that she hadn’t been sleeping. Maybe she was just thinking of Luke, of the band, because it was the anniversary of their deaths. But as hard as she tried to convince herself, she knew that wasn’t the case. It was definitely Sunset Curve on that stage, she would know them anywhere.

But, they were dead. She knew they were dead, so how—

**★**

Her train of thought was cut off as she heard the telltale sound of students in the halls. 

The assembly must have ended, she realized absently. It hadn’t felt like that long since she’d left. But, then again, she didn’t know how close to finishing the assembly had been when she got there.

She forced herself to take a few deep breaths, slowing her racing heart, before pasting a perfectly serene smile to her face. There wasn’t much that she could do about the inevitable red eyes and blotchy cheeks that she knew she must have, but she would survive.

She grabbed her backpack, making her way across the quad to her locker. The chatter in the hallways was impossible to miss, with everyone freaking out over Julie’s epic hologram band.

Huh, holograms. That explained… well, it explained some of it, even if she still had no idea how Julie would even know who Sunset Curve was, let alone how to make such accurate holograms.

“Dude, can you believe that?” she heard a voice exclaim.

She turned around, unable to hold back an audible gasp at the sight. 

That was Luke. Any doubt she might have had earlier would have been completely destroyed by the sight of the three boys standing in the hallway. Not only would she know their faces anywhere, but she recognized those exact outfits from Uncle Bobby’s pictures. Sunset Curve,  _ Luke _ , was there, standing in the middle of the hallway.

Except, no one else was looking at them. They were all gushing about the hologram band, yes, but they were walking past — walking  _ through _ — the boys as if they weren’t there at all.

“They could see us,” Alex was saying — and again, no one else in the halls showed any sign of having heard them. “They could  _ see us _ . And then the music ended and they couldn’t see us anymore, what was that about? I mean —”

“Alex, breathe,” Luke said gently, and something in Emily’s chest tightened.

She couldn’t breathe.

“Breathe,” Luke repeated.

Emily breathed. It was shaky and shallow, but she forced herself to repeat the action.

“They could see us,” Alex repeated.

“Well,” Reggie said, “the other day they could hear us, remember? Maybe this is the same thing.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Alex objected, “because they couldn’t  _ see _ us.”

“It has to be Julie,” Luke added. “She’s the only one who can see us, but everyone can see us when we’re performing with her? It had to be—”

“About that,” Reggie sing-songed. “Don’t look now, but that blonde girl is staring at us.”

_ Shit. _

Emily looked down quickly, pulling her phone out as she turned more fully towards her locker.

Right, maybe not a good idea to stare at people that literally no one else could see. Well, no one except for Julie, somehow.

“Dude, no way!” Luke said.

Emily’s grip on her phone had tightened as she fought the urge to flinch, to give herself away.

“We tested it out, remember?” Luke continued, “no one other than Julie can see us. I doubt some random girl is somehow special.”  _ Oh. _ “She probably just zoned out looking this way or something.”

Emily dug her nails into the palms of her free hand, trying desperately not to cry. Of course Luke didn’t think she was special, and it’s not like he knew that she wasn’t exactly a random girl, but it hurt more than she could ever put into words.

“Well,” Alex said, before Reggie could argue, “Julie’s coming, so we can ask her.”

Oh, Julie. Thank god. 

She grabbed the books she would need for her English class, and, seeing Julie out of the corner of her eye, turned to try to talk to her. But Julie’s eyes were wide and her shoulders were tight and she walked right past Emily to the boys, so Emily stayed where she was. She could try to talk to her after class, she told herself, though her feet stayed rooted to the spot.

She heard the boys shout Julie’s name, and couldn’t stop herself from slamming her locker shut at the sudden noise. Great, so much for flying under the radar.

She felt, more than saw, the boys looking at her again, but forced herself to look down and pretend to flip through the copy of  _ The Tempest _ that happened to be at the top of her pile.

She tried not to listen, and for the most part, she succeeded. Her head was still racing, her breathing still too shallow, and most of her energy was directed towards keeping herself upright. She wanted to leave, and she was sure that Uncle Bobby would call in for her, no questions asked, but she knew that if she gave in to the temptation to curl up under her blankets and hide away from the world then she might never stop.

So she ignored the dizziness, ignored the way her heart pounded in her throat, ignored the fact that her dead brother was somehow standing across the hallway talking to her best friend. 

Emily Patterson was nothing if not a master of pretending to be okay, she could do this.

“Hey Julie?” Reggie asked, as the halls cleared out.

She didn’t want to listen, she really didn’t, but the usual low rumble in the hallways had faded and his voice echoed through the open space.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s the blonde girl over by the lockers?”

It took everything in her not to turn and run as soon as she heard the question, but she knew that would confirm Reggie’s suspicions that she could somehow see them. So she swallowed her tears, ignoring the anxious pit that had carved itself into her stomach, and forced herself to keep her eyes on her book.

“That’s my friend, Emily,” she heard Julie explain. “She was absent this morning… I guess she must have just gotten here. Why?”

It wasn’t until that moment that Emily realized how easily everything could have fallen apart, if Julie had just used her last name. Maybe it was irrational then, to feel so anxious about something that hadn’t happened, but she could feel that painful pit clawing its way into her chest, settling around her heart.

“Reggie is convinced that she can see us,” Luke explained. “Even though that’s totally impossible.”

Julie let out a soft sigh. “Emily spaces out sometimes, she probably didn’t even realize she was doing it—” the bell rang, the loud shrill ringing through Emily’s head like nails on a chalkboard. “Right, class. I’ve got to go, you guys go back to the studio and stay out of trouble.”

Emily didn’t wait to see how they responded, methodically putting one foot in front of the other as she tried to head to class without collapsing or puking, or both.

“Emily, hold up!”

She turned, wincing as it brought dark spots into her vision.

“Hey Julie,” she said, smiling as best as she could. “I heard about your new band, that sounds really cool. And, I’m really glad that you’re singing again.”

“Thanks, Em,” Julie said, linking her arm through Emily’s with an affectionate squeeze.

Emily let Julie’s familiar grip guide her up the stairs, but she didn’t quite manage to stop herself from stumbling as they reached the top. She caught herself on the railing, Julie instinctively bracing her from the other side, and tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the rough metal scrape open the palm of her hand. Her books fell to the floor with a loud  _ THUD _ .

“ _ Dammit _ ,” Emily hissed, trying desperately to hold back the sobs caught in her throat.

“Are you okay?” Julie asked, immediately crouching down to collect the books.

“It’s just a bit of blood,” Emily said absently, examining her hand. “It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? You seemed out of it earlier… Is there anything I can do?”

“I’ll be okay, Jules, it’s just been a rough day.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Emily offered out her pinkie, and Julie linked it with her own, shaking their hands slightly and drawing a smile out of the blonde. “I think I’m going to see if Uncle Trevor can pick me up though, I’ve had a headache building since I woke up and I think orchestration might do me in.”

Julie couldn’t help but laugh as she stood, passing Emily back her books.

“I’ll let Mrs. Harrison,” she offered. “Text me later to let me know how you’re doing?”

“I will. Thanks, Jules.”

“Anytime.”

Emily pulled the taller girl in for a tight hug, separating just as quickly so that Julie could get to her next class before the late bell. As Julie disappeared around the corner, Emily pulled out her phone, but shoved it back into her pocket immediately after.

Uncle Bobby would want to drive her home, or let her sleep it off in one of his endless guest rooms, she knew that. But she needed air, more than anything else.

★

That’s how she found herself on her favourite bench in her favourite park, carefully dabbing antiseptic from the nearby CVS onto the palm of her hand, covering it with a bandage afterwards.

Once her hand had been dealt with, she shoved the medical supplies into her backpack and made her way over to her favourite patch of grass, right under her favourite palm tree. She lay down, blonde hair fanning out around her, and closed her eyes to the bright California sun.

She loved the park, she really did. It was within walking distance from Los Feliz High, but it felt like another world completely. The space was open and bright, always overflowing with flowers and laughter and sometimes Emily’s own guitar. There was something indescribable about it; the way it felt like home, or like a warm hug from an old friend.

She had first discovered it when she was ten, when the deafening silence in her house had become too much and she’d grabbed her guitar and climbed out the window. She’d wandered aimlessly for what had felt like hours (in retrospect, it was probably no more than thirty minutes) before she’d found the park, taking a seat under a palm tree that soon became her favourite, and strumming quietly on the guitar.

She’d felt at peace, that’s really what it came down to. The endless itchiness under her skin had become also imperceptible, the hollowness in her heart didn’t weigh her down, the loneliness that wrapped around her like a second skin didn’t suffocate her. She didn’t know what it was about the park that had such a strong effect on her, but she had gone back at least twice a week every week for the past five years.

It was her own secret garden, in a way. Somewhere no one could find her, somewhere she could let down the mask she had all but glued on as a child.

She didn’t fall asleep, but when she opened her eyes she felt better than she had all day. Not good, not on March 19th, but better. The weight on her shoulders was still there, but lighter, as if someone had taken half of the load for her.

When she sat up, she noticed a small bouquet of flowers beside her. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, far from it, but she had never been able to figure out who it was. For as long as she’d been hanging out in the park, she’d noticed something — someone, she had to assume — always seemed to pick up on her bad days and tried to help. A bouquet of flowers, a still-cold ice cream bar, a pile of four leaf clovers. She didn’t know how, but she knew that it had to be related to why the park had always felt like such a safe haven.

She picked up the flowers, carefully tucking them into the side pocket of her backpack with her water bottle.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the wind, and the warm breeze that brushed past her sounded almost like  _ you’re welcome _ .

She checked her phone and, seeing that it was already three o’clock, forced herself to stand. The park had cleared her mind and she really didn’t want to face the anxiety she had left at the entrance, but she needed to talk to Julie.

★

The walk back to Julie’s house was definitely longer than the walk from school, but forty-five minutes later she was heading into her friend’s backyard, with no more idea of what to say then she’d had when she first saw Luke on the stage in the gym. 

How exactly  _ do _ you say ‘hey, you know your hologram band? One of them is my dead brother — oh right, and I have a dead brother who I’ve never mentioned even though we’ve been best friends for fifteen years,’ without sounding crazy?

Answer: you don’t.

Thankfully, she was pulled out of her thoughts when she saw Flynn pacing outside of the garage.

“Flynn?” she prompted quietly.

“Emily? What are you doing here?” Flynn asked. “Julie said something in orchestration about you being sick?”

“My head was weird,” she explained with a shrug. “But I’m feeling better now, I think… I just — I need to talk to Julie.”

“If it’s about the band, don’t bother,” Flynn scoffed. “She’ll probably give you the same crazy story as she gave me.”

“Crazy story?”

“First she told me some really obvious lie about them being from Sweden, now she’s saying that they’re the ghosts of some old boy band and that she’s going to ‘prove it to me’ or something.”

“Ghosts?” Emily echoed. “She didn’t, like, tell you what band or anything, did she?”

“I don’t think so,” Flynn shrugged. “Why?”

Emily took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back.

“I... I think I know them.”

“Seriously?”

“I mean, not in person. But I think I know the band. I don’t know, I might also be completely losing my mind, that’s why I’m here. I need to know for sure, one way or another.”

“Em? You’re starting to scare me. Why would you be losing your mind?”

“Because if I’m right then they died from food poisoning in 1995.”

“There’s no way, they can’t be older than like, eighteen.

“Unless Julie is telling the truth…”

Flynn let out a small laugh, something that bordered on both incredulity and hysteria.

“You don’t really believe they’re ghosts of some old band, do you?” she asked.

Emily looked at her, blue eyes wide and watery as she took a shaky breath.

“If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone else? Even Julie?”

Flynn blinked, and Emily could see the uncertainty in her eyes. The three of them never kept secrets from each other. Not really. Emily had things that she didn’t talk about period, they all knew that, but she had never asked them to keep things from each other for her. It was a lot to ask and she knew it, but still she hoped—

“I promise, Em. What’s going on?”

Emily reached up to her neck, clasping the locket that had rested there for as long as Flynn could remember. None of them knew what was inside it, but the golden pendant with a beautifully engraved sun was as much a part of Emily as her hair, her eyes, or even her music. But for the first time that Flynn knew of, Emily opened it, holding it up for Flynn to look at.

“Look at the boy,” she said, voice cracking.

And so, Flynn looked. On the left was a picture of Emily, from when she must have been around five years old. She had an old acoustic guitar in her lap, far too big for her, and the brightest smile Flynn had ever seen from her. On the right was a picture of a boy, dark hair peeking out from underneath an orange beanie. He looked around fifteen, holding the same guitar with the same bright smile. She squinted, looking closer. Holy  _ crap _ , that was —

“That’s Julie’s guitarist,” Flynn said, looking back at her best friend.

“That’s Luke Patterson. He’s my brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a—”

“He died,” Emily interrupted. “Twenty-five years ago today."

Flynn froze, jaw dropping. She was sure that her eyes must have been as wide as Emily’s, but she couldn’t even blink. 

“Flynn?”

Flynn shook her head, trying to clear her racing thoughts.

“I want to come back to the part where we’ve been best friends for twelve years and you never mentioned a brother but, are you sure they’re the same?”

“I would know him anywhere,” Emily said quietly. “And besides, I recognize the other two too. Alex plays the drums and Reggie plays bass, they were in a band together before… before.”

She unzipped her leather jacket and Flynn could see the words Sunset Curve on them — huh, Flynn had never given it much thought before, but she only, and always, wore that shirt twice a year and always on the two days where she was the most withdrawn.

“That was their band?” she asked, just to be sure.

Emily nodded. “They were going to be legends, you know. The night the three of them died, they were supposed to play the Orpheum and it was sold out. But they died from food poisoning and their only surviving bandmate cancelled the show.”

“Understandable,” Flynn said. “Why didn’t you ever tell us?”

“I didn’t know how. When we were little I just didn’t know how to explain the whole thing or how to explain why I was always so sad about a boy I never knew, or that it felt like I knew him better than anyone, or how sometimes it feels like he raised me as much as my parents. I’ve had enough therapists basically calling me crazy since I was a kid that I figured out pretty quickly that that’s not something I should share.

“And when we got older, I… I didn’t know how. Like, ‘hey guys, by the way, my parents actually had a son who died exactly ten years before I was born. Wild, right? Sorry I haven’t mentioned him ever’?” Her laugh bordered on hysterical, and Flynn took her hand. “And I didn’t think it would really make a difference, you know? He’s dead, it’s not like I knew that somehow he was going to end up in a band with one of my best friends. Mama Rose and Uncle Trevor knew, they both knew him before he died, but I’ve never actually, you know, said it before.” 

“Why do you have to be so reasonable?” Flynn pouted playfully. “I want to be mad at you for keeping it from us but instead I really just want to hug you now.”

“So… you’re not mad?”

Flynn looked at the blonde. Her eyes were rimmed with red and her lower lip trembled, almost white where her teeth were digging into it. She was taking deep breaths, foot tapping out a steady rhythm that Flynn recognized too well — she had taught it to both Flynn and Carrie the year before, a way to help Julie through the worst days of Rose’s illness.

She wanted to be mad. It was a huge secret for Emily to keep from her best friends; but she just couldn’t. She would thankfully never have to find out, but she had a feeling that she would have done the same thing in that situation.

“I’m not mad,” she said gently, opening her arms for Emily to collapse against her.

She staggered backwards from the force of it, steadying herself quickly as she wrapped her arms around the blonde.

“Are you going to tell Julie?” she asked after a moment. “Are you going to tell Luke?”

Emily shook her head wordlessly.

“No way. I… Mama Rose knew, and Julie would be  _ pissed _ if she found out that her mom had kept it from her. Or that I had kept it from her, especially after everything. I don’t want my family shit to ruin this, not when she’s finally singing again.”

“I don’t think she would be mad,” Flynn tried to assure her, “but it’s up to you. What about Luke?”

“I want to, but I can’t. I mean…” Emily pulled away, carefully wiping the tears from her cheeks. “He didn’t have a sister before he died, why would he want one twenty-five years later? I was adopted ten years after he died, he’d probably just feel like I was a replacement or something. And like, he’d probably think it was weird, you know? I know all this stuff about him, I grew up in his bedroom with his guitar and his music and stuff, but he has no idea who I am. It’ll be hard enough to explain why I can see them when the music stops, adding in the soap opera drama will just complicate things.”

“Breathe, Emmy,” Flynn told her gently, once she stopped rambling. “It’ll be okay. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

Emily nodded with a small smile, but still wouldn’t meet Flynn’s eyes.

“What is it?” Flynn asked, going to sit on one of the large rocks in Julie’s backyard.

Emily followed her, sitting in silence for a minute before speaking, almost too quiet for Flynn to hear.

“It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“It’s not fair that Julie gets him. And that’s so unfair of me because Julie is singing again and I should be happy for her — and I  _ am _ happy for her — but Luke is  _ my _ brother. All I’ve ever wanted is a chance to get to know him for real, to actually have my brother and not just a phantom made of stories and pictures and songs from a decade before I was born. It’s the  _ only _ thing I’ve ever wanted. And now he’s here, and I can see him and talk to him, but he’s in  _ Julie’s _ band and he doesn’t know I exist, and I can’t tell him without ruining things for Julie which wouldn’t be fair  _ either _ .”

She was close to hyperventilating again, and Flynn was quick to grab her friend’s backpack, passing her the sticker-covered water bottle.

Emily opened it quickly, taking a long sip before forcing herself to slow her breathing.

“All I’ve ever wanted is a chance to have my brother back. To get to actually talk to him. And now I  _ can _ but it’s all wrong, and it’s not fair.”

Flynn grabbed Emily’s hand, trying to think of something she could say to make things better, but before she could, the garage door swung open.

“Trust me?” Flynn asked quietly.

“Always,” Emily agreed, linking their pinkies.

“Thanks for waiting,” Julie said, as the two girls stood, “we just wanted to rehearse the song until it’s perfect, which it’s not, but — Emily? When did you get here?”

“Like five minutes after you went into the garage,” Flynn told her. “She wanted to ask about your band.”

“So I guess Flynn told you I was losing it and you stuck around for proof?” Julie asked, looking at Emily.

Emily tensed, but managed a smile. 

“Actually I was going to ask why the rest of your band is dead.”

“You mean, you believe me?”

Emily laughed, pulling her jacket open enough for Julie to see the logo on the shirt underneath.

“Jules, they look identical to the picture from their demo from 1995. You’re lucky that nobody else in our school has ever heard of Sunset Curve, but I grew up on their music.”

Flynn coughed beside her, and Julie glanced between them before shrugging.

“Alright well, if you want, the guys and I prepared a little something to prove to Flynn that I’m not going crazy, and you can definitely stick around.”

Emily nodded, following Julie into the garage. 

“Alright guys,” Julie said, looking around the room. “You ready?”

She guided the two of them towards the wheely chairs they had all loved growing up, and Emily let herself be gently pushed into sitting down. Julie was talking, but she couldn’t focus on her friend. Because there, right next to Julie’s keyboard, was Luke. And Alex and Reggie, and  _ wow _ it was hard to believe that she wasn’t losing her mind, but her  _ brother _ was there, and he was looking right at her.

“Wait,” she heard Reggie say. It wasn’t a whisper but, she reasoned, he probably didn’t think that she or Flynn could hear him. “That’s the girl who was looking at us earlier.”

“Calm down, Reg,” Luke said — oh god, that was  _ Luke’s _ voice. That was what he sounded like when he wasn’t singing, and he was staring at her. All of them were staring at her, but she kept her gaze focused on her hands. Nothing good could come of her making eye contact with Luke, not when they thought she couldn’t see them. Not when she had finally gotten her panic back down to a manageable level. “Only Julie can see us, remember? You tested that earlier.”

It took everything in her, and Flynn’s hand in hers, to keep her from crying. That was Luke, that was her brother. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. They caught in her throat, choking her under the weight of all the things she’d dreamt of telling him. She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t breathe.

With careful effort, she managed to raise a challenging eyebrow, letting Reggie’s loud gasp take their eyes off of her. It wasn’t so suffocating, when it didn’t feel like she was failing a test she didn’t know she was taking, and she was able to force in a shaky breath, letting out an even shakier exhale.

“So, I was promised a song?” Flynn asked, squeezing Emily’s hand tight.

“Right,” Julie nodded, glancing at Emily with furrowed brows. “The guys took a song that I wrote about you guys and put it to music.”

“Aww,” Flynn deadpanned, startling a laugh from the blonde. “I wish I didn’t have to talk to your dad after this.”

Julie rolled her eyes fondly, and Emily managed to mirror the action, exchanging a fond grin with her best friend. They both knew that Flynn wasn’t going to talk to Ray, but she wasn’t ready to admit it yet. Despite everything, she could almost let herself pretend that it was just another day with Flynn and Julie. Almost.

“It’s called Flying Solo,” Julie said, as if Flynn had never spoken. “Hope you like it.”

The two audience members smiled at each other, waiting for Julie to begin.

_ If I leave you on a bad note _

_ Leave you on a sad note _

_ Guess that means I’m buying lunch that day _

Emily and Flynn looked at each other, smiles growing with every word. It was just so Julie, and Emily’s frustration about Julie being the one connected to Sunset Curve was fading quickly — how could she be upset when they’d brought her best friend back to her.

_ I know all your secrets _

_ You know all my deep-dish _

_ Guess that means some things they never, they never _

_ Change… _

_ We both know what I, what I, what I _

_ Mean…. _

_ When I look at you it’s like I’m looking at me _

Suddenly, Alex came in on the drums, Luke and Reggie joining him a split second later. And, judging by Flynn’s loud gasp, and how she tightened her grip on Emily’s hand, she could see them too.

_ My life, my life, would be real low, zero, flying solo _

_ My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you _

_ Hey!  _

Flynn flinched when the boys shouted, but Emily could only laugh, trying to keep her eyes on Julie. It was like one of Trevor’s stories come to life, of jamming out in that very garage without a care in the world, and it was almost too much for her to deal with.

_ Yeah-e-yeah _

_ Hey! Yeah-e-yeah _

_ My life, my life, would be real low, zero, flying solo without you _

It was a fun song, it really was, and Emily still couldn’t quite believe that Julie had written it for them, but then there was Luke, singing right at them as he made his way over to Reggie’s mic, and it was all Emily could do to hold it together.

_ Yeah, you know who I’m likin’ _

_ Way before I liked them _

_ Duh, cause you liked them first _

Both girls giggled as Julie knelt in front of them. It was true that Flynn had always had an uncanny ability to know who any of her friends were crushing on before they did, though neither of them had ever actually shared Julie’s interest in Nick. 

_ And if somebody hurts you _

_ I’m gonna get hurt too _

_ That’s just how we work, yeah, that’s just how we work _

Emily blinked when Julie squeezed her knee tightly, before grabbing Flynn’s empty hand. 

That was why she couldn’t stay mad at Julie, everything else aside. That was how they worked, it was how they’d always worked, and she knew that if Julie knew the truth about Luke then she would stop at nothing to help Emily connect with her brother. And Emily knew that she would do the same for Julie; that was why she couldn’t tell her about Luke. Julie would give up the band in a heartbeat for Emily, but Emily could never bring herself to take away something that had brought music back into Julie’s life.

_ It will never _

_ Change… _

_ We both know what I, what I, what I _

_ Mean…. _

_ When I look at you it’s like I’m looking at me _

Julie stood up, tugging Flynn with her, who in turn tugged Emily up too. The three stood in the middle of the garage, Flynn looking nervously at the boys.

Emily understood her hesitation, she really did, but as Julie continued to sing, she couldn’t help but sway along with it. This was Sunset Curve, and yes they might be ghosts now, but Emily had spent her entire life singing along to their demo, it was as instinctive as breathing. 

Music was easier, it always had been. She didn’t have to talk to people, or worry about saying the wrong thing and letting something slip, she could just feel.

_ My life, my life, would be real low, zero, flying solo _

_ My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you _

Julie led Flynn, and therefore Emily, over to Luke, and Emily couldn’t help the small noise that escaped her when her brother grinned at her. Thankfully the music covered it up from the boys, but she saw Flynn’s eyes widen at the sound.

_ Hey! Yeah-e-yeah _

_ Hey! Yeah-e-yeah _

Too soon, but not soon enough, Julie was dragging them away from Luke and over to Alex, and Emily found it slightly easier to breathe, bouncing along to the rhythm and relishing in the wide smile that Alex gave her. This much she could handle;  _ music _ she could handle.

_ My life, my life, would be real low, zero, flying solo without you _

The music fell into a lull as they approached Reggie, with Flynn trying to poke him only for her hand to go right through him.

“Weird, right?” he asked, with a smile as bright as Alex’s, warming Emily in a way that she couldn’t quite explain.

“They’re ghosts!” Flynn exclaimed, and Emily couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s wide eyes.

“I already told you that,” she reminded her friend, just as Alex said that they preferred to be called musician spirits.

“Wait,” Luke said, the voice pulling at her like a magnet. “How did you know?”

Luke was talking to her.  _ Luke _ was talking to her.  _ Luke was talking to her. _ This was… it was better than any dream she’d ever had, and her smile was genuine when she tugged off her leather jacket to reveal the Sunset Curve shirt underneath.

“ _ Some of us _ ,” she said, shooting playful glares at her best friends, “aren’t heathens and have actually heard of Sunset Curve before.”

It was hard to take her eyes off of Luke, but she forced herself to turn around so that Reggie and Alex could see the shirt too.

“So you’re a fan?” Alex asked.

Emily shrugged, though her smile betrayed her attempts at indifference. 

“I’d say I’m probably your biggest fan.” 

“But you  _ could _ see us, right? You were looking right at us at school.”

Oh. Right. Thanks Reggie. She knew the question would come eventually, but she was no more prepared for it than she was the first time she locked eyes with the bassist in the school hallway. She forced herself to breathe through the knot in her throat, refusing to let her smile falter.

“Yeah,” she said, after a slightly-too-long silence. “I can see you guys without the music.”

“Okay, but—”

But whatever Alex had been going to ask was interrupted by Luke leaning forward to his mic.

“Julie?” he asked. “So does this mean you’re joining our band?”

Julie opened her mouth, but Flynn cut her off.

“Actually,” she said, wrapping one arm around Julie’s shoulders and the other around Emily’s, “I think you’re joining their band.”

Emily’s eyes widened, and she saw Julie and the boys looking between her and Flynn in clear confusion. Flynn, like Emily, refused to meet anyone’s eyes, but Emily could still feel the way she tensed. 

She got it, she really did. It was one thing to jam out while your best friend played a song she wrote for you, but it was another thing to actually talk to a ghost band — especially when the lead singer was your friend’s secret brother. She knew that Flynn must be dying to say something, and she felt guilty for making her promise not to, but telling Luke, or Julie, just wasn’t something she could handle.

“I’m gonna go with what she said,” Julie agreed, not missing a beat. She wrapped an arm around Flynn’s waist, grabbing Emily’s hand as she did. “We’re a package deal.”

Luke beamed, and something in Emily’s jumped at the sight. She wasn’t sure what Flynn was thinking, or what Julie thought Flynn was thinking, or even why Julie had agreed to Flynn’s condition, but seeing her brother smiling at her filled a hole in her chest that she had never even known was there.

_ My life, my life, would be real low, zero, flying solo _

_ My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you _

_ Hey! Yeah-e-yeah _

_ Hey! Yeah-e-yeah _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Unsaid Emily, tell your friends!
> 
> I know it's basically unheard of for me to update a story more than once in a century but oh my god, thank you all so much for the enthusiasm you showed for the first chapter! I really love Emily so much, and seeing that others love her too has been so exciting! I hope you've all enjoyed this chapter, and I'm hoping to have more for you soon! As always, I'd love to hear any thoughts that you have on it, and you can find me (and lots more content for emily) on tumblr @randomestfandoms-ocs

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I very much meant to be focusing on SOWK but well, I watched JATP to deal with US election anxiety and immediately got inspired to make some ocs! Emily quickly became my favourite, and the enthusiasm that my friends showed for her really pushed me to start writing for her! This story is dedicated to randomfandoming1 and lizziesxltzmxn on tumblr because their immediate enthusiasm when I told them about this idea is the only reason this story got published! I really hope that you all love her as much as I do, and you can find more content for her on my tumblr @randomestfandoms-ocs


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